


With Kindest Regards

by janellio



Series: To Whom it May Concern [2]
Category: To All the Boys I've Loved Before (Movies), To All the Boys I've Loved Before Series - Jenny Han
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:20:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25239130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janellio/pseuds/janellio
Summary: Miss Lara Jean née Covey and Lord Kavinsky are wed at last, and this is their wedding night. A continuation of "To Whom it May Concern."You can read this without reading the other story, but this exists in that Universe.
Relationships: Peter Kavinsky & Lara Jean Song-Covey, Peter Kavinsky/Lara Jean Song-Covey
Series: To Whom it May Concern [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827103
Comments: 8
Kudos: 75





	With Kindest Regards

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, a coda of sorts to "To Whom It May Concern." I had written this to include it initially in the story but didn't as it would have changed the rating.

The wedding was held in the Portsmouth chapel in the town center, the banns having been read the previous three sundays as was customary. The morning was sunny and clear, hardly a cloud in the sky. Lara Jean’s wedding dress was white in a delicate gauze fabric, in deference to the heat of the summer months. She wore with it a shawl of brussels lace, a present from her soon to be mother in law. The fabric was so fine it could pass completely through the circle of her engagement ring. Her straw bonnet was covered in a sheer veil, embroidered with roses and lilies at the edge. 

Her mother’s carved jade was tied into her handkerchief, grasped in her fist about her bouquet of wildflowers. She needed to keep this piece of her mother close to her on her wedding day. 

Margot and Kitty wore dresses in a similar style but in differing colors, Margot in robin’s egg blue and Kitty in yellow. 

Another scandal had erupted when Margot came home with a husband. It turned out that in the interim between her visit to Portsmouth and her return, Margot had eloped! Her new husband Ravi alongside her when they disembarked from the ship. Dr. Covey had been concerned with the hastiness of the marriage but when he saw how Ravi looked at his eldest daughter, all those concerns disappeared. 

Ravi looked at Margot the way he’d looked at his own wife Eve, and the way Peter looked at Lara Jean. 

Dr. Covey escorted her down the aisle towards Peter, the last moments that she existed as solely his daughter before becoming a wife. 

“You look as lovely as your mother.” Dr Covey whispered in her ear, his eyes wet as he took her hand and placed it into Lord Kavinsky’s. 

When Lara Jean raised her eyes to look at Peter; she saw something tender in his expression that she had only ever seen fleeting moments of before. 

They vowed to love and honor each other, forsaking all others for as long as they both will live. When Peter lifted the lace of her veil and leaned down to kiss her softly and chastely, she closed her eyes as one joyous tear escaped and slid down her cheek.

The post wedding luncheon was held at her new home of Adler Hall, the dining room open to the terrace, some guests daring enough to take their plates and picnic on the grounds. 

Peter’s closest friend, Mr. Pike was in attendance, granted shore leave for the event, already Christine was in conversation with him and Lara Jean did not miss when her fan stroked along the braid trimming of his coat. 

After the departure of their guests, Lara Jean headed up to her brand new bedchamber in Adler Hall, she had not had a chance to see it prior to her taking residence, but it had been redecorated per her design specifications. The walls were painted a light teal at her behest, with a skilled muralist coming in to paint a landscape of delicate flowering branches in shades of pink and rose. 

“How lovely!” she exclaimed, turning round and taking in the splendor of the decor. She went and opened each wardrobe inspecting the gowns that had been ordered as a part of her trousseau hanging and smelling of lavender and cedar. 

“My Lady?” 

She turned at the voice, “Hello there,” Lara Jean replied, smiling kindly at Daisy. Her lady’s maid seemed to be not much older than Kitty and wore a mob cap that could barely contain her curly hair but other than that, her appearance was neat as a pin. 

“I have a bath being prepared for you my Lady.”

“Oh, how lovely.” she stepped towards the screens that concealed the bath. 

Daisy paused and prompted, “May I help you disrobe, my Lady?”

“Ah, yes, yes,” she replied and Daisy went around to her back and began the task of undoing each one of the pearl buttons that fastened the wedding gown.

It was so strange to be assisted in such simple tasks she was accustomed to accomplishing herself. Things like removing her gown, taking down her hair or preparing a bath. Lara Jean had always seen to her own toilette, dressed and arranged her hair herself, well Kitty most often helped with that. But how helpless these peers seemed at times, needing servants for something as simple as applying tooth powder

She held the gown apart as Lara Jean stepped out of the silken finery.

Daisy left her for the moment and began pouring the heated pails of water into the large copper slipper tub.

Lara Jean walked around to the tub and Daisy seemed surprised.

“Do you need my assistance with your stays, my lady?”

“Daisy, you may call me Lara Jean.”

“My lady I would never be so informal with the lady of the house.” she seemed taken aback by her behavior.

She sighed and supposed that it would take some more time to make a friend of her maid. She stood still as Daisy unlaced the corset and left to put it away. She took off her chemise and drawers, draping them atop the screen. 

The water itself was scented with bergamot and steamed enticingly. She stepped in and leaned against the high back of the tub, enjoying the warmth and the fragrance of the water she trailed her hands through the water making it swirl around her limbs. The bath at home was not this deep, and it would have been too much of a luxury to fill it to the brim with hot water and oils and perfume like this. She picked up the sponge and began to wash her legs and arms, the water turning milky with the suds.

“My Lady?”

“Yes, Daisy?”

“Would you like me to brush your hair?”

“Yes, thank you that would be lovely.” 

She heard her gathering the set of combs and brushes from her vanity preparing to come attend to her when the adjoining door between hers and the Lord’s chambers opened.

“My Lord.” and she saw Daisy bob a quick curtsy between the partition of the screens. She did not yet see her husband.

“Hello, what is your name?” Lara Jean heard Peter ask.

“Daisy, My Lord.”

“Well, Daisy I think I can attend to the rest of the Viscountess’s needs tonight.”

Daisy blushed and bobbed a quick curtsy to him again and left the room quickly.

“I do think you have scandalized my Lady’s maid, Peter.” she called out. 

Her husband came around the screen, his wedding suit also disassembled, leaving him in his waistcoat, shirt, and trousers. He was unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling them up his forearms as he came towards her and perched on the rim of the bathtub, smiling down at her. 

“How fortunate I am to find you like this.” 

She sank lower in the water, a blush starting at the tops of her breasts and coloring her cheeks. 

His gaze turned heated as he looked at her and he cleared his throat.

“Here, I will act as your bath maid for tonight.”

“You will wash my back?”

“Oh yes.”

Lara Jean laughed, “You will brush and arrange my hair, my Lord?”

Peter’s eyes sparkled with humour, “if you wish.”

“Well, I wish to get out of the bath.”

He picked up the plush bathing towel and held it open for her. 

“Will you close your eyes?” She asked softly, nervous.

Peter’s look went fond and adoring, “alright.” He closed his eyes as she wished.

She stood and leaned into Peter and he wrapped the toweling around her and picked her up and out of the tub, as if she were a young child and not a married woman of two and twenty.

“You may open your eyes.”

He smiled and leaned over to kiss her softly and sweetly.

“Will you bring me my nightgown?”

Peter raised an eyebrow, “I thought I would be undressing you tonight, not the opposite.”

“Please?”

He went to grab the fine white lawn nightgown that was draped over the bathing screen.

“Can you wait while I get dressed?”

He walked back around the screen and sat at the bench at the end of her bed, finding her modesty charming.

She came around the screen walking towards him, and stood in the space between his legs.

“Thank you, Peter.” She braced her hands on his shoulders and leaned down so that she may kiss his cheek. 

She did seem a little less nervous now that she was clothed. He knew she had much to be nervous about this night, as he assumed many virginal brides were on their wedding nights. He’d heard horror stories from the gentleman at his club, crying and carrying on having not been adequately prepared for what was to come. He also did not give much credit to his companions caring enough to pleasure their wives in the marriage bed. 

He took her hand and led her over to the bed, sitting on the side. She tensed briefly, Peter looked at her in concern. She relaxed when he picked up her hair brush and motioned for her to turn around so that he could brush her hair. She could feel him taking out the hair pins before her hair tumbled down her back. 

“What do you know of love making?” Peter asked softly, running the brush through her locks.

She was quiet for a moment and then said, “Well, Margot had a talk with me this morning on what to expect.”

“And what did she tell you?” he sounded bemused. 

“That I should lay back and let my husband do as he wished.”

Peter held in a laugh waiting for her to continue. 

“She also said I should trust you and that her new husband Ravi is quite skilled at…”

Peter could no longer hold back his laughter.

“Don’t make fun!”

“I assure you I am very serious,” Peter replied, placing the brush and pins on her nightstand, lounging next to her on the bed, propped up on his elbow and looking entirely too delighted by her answers. She scooted to the center of the bed, drawing her legs up under herself.

“Well, I've read my father’s medical texts obviously. And my novels are rather vague but I can estimate the act is accomplished with much sighing on my part and fluttering eyelashes,” she was speaking very quickly, as she did when she was nervous.

Peter held her hand, and this quieted her as he softly stroked his finger over it. 

“You do not have to be anxious with me.”

“But I am.”

“I am a little nervous too.”

“Why?”

“I’ve never made love to a married woman before.” he teased and Lara Jean laughed and pushed his shoulder. 

“Here,” Peter remarked coming closer to her, “we can kiss. You enjoy that very much don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” Lara Jean replied shy suddenly.

Peter leaned over and kissed her, gently as if he didn't want to scare her off, letting her take the lead and set the pace. In their kissing she relaxed onto the bed, Peter moved halfway over her but held himself up, supporting his own weight. 

She sighed into his kiss, parting them slightly for the welcome pressure of his tongue, and she readily returned that caress, unable to help the small wanton noises she made in the back of her throat as he kissed her. 

Her lips felt swollen and tender when he pulled away. He moved to kiss her jaw, and the skin underneath her ear, she didn't know that her neck could be that sensitive and that Peter’s kisses would feel so good there. 

Peter wound one of the blue silk ribbons holding her nightgown closed around his finger and tugged, undoing the bow. She startled when she felt his hand warm and dry slip underneath the fabric and touch the delicate skin of her breast, her nipple already pebbling against his touch. 

“Oh.”

“Is this okay?” Peter murmured.

His thumb teased the firm peak of her nipple and caused sensation to spark in the pit of her belly. 

“Yes.” she gasped, “oh yes.”

“Good,” Peter smiled softly and he parted the two sides of her gown, her breasts bared to his gaze.

He let out a breath as if he had been holding it, his color high on his cheeks and his eyes dark. 

Lara Jean moved to cover herself but stopped when Peter breathed out, “You're so lovely.”

She shook her head abashedly, “Not really.”

“No, you don’t believe me?” Peter said, his fingers wondrously tracing the curves of her chest from the hollow of her throat to the tips of her breasts, his fingers softly traveled a trail that left warmth in their wake. 

“You’re so beautiful here.”

“They’re small,” Lara Jean said and grimaced at a memory, “every time I went for a dress fitting for the wedding they tried to sell me bust improvers.”

Peter huffed out an incredulous laugh, “how can you improve upon perfection?”

Lara Jean blushed but did not move to cover herself again.

He leaned down to kiss the shallow valley between her breasts, a soft ivory expanse of her skin, and brushed his lips ever so lightly over the pink peak of her nipple. She moaned when he kissed it, taking it into his mouth, her hands winding through his hair as he covered her breasts with kisses. 

Her own nimble fingers pushed his waistcoat off and reached for the starched placket that fastened his evening shirt, trying to open it but the buttons were hidden beneath the fabric.

Peter laughed, “My eager bride.”

He leaned back and unbuttoned the placket before pulling it over his head and Lara Jean fell silent at the sight. He seemed more somehow, before her like this, the undeniable masculine energy he radiated obvious, and overwhelming at times. His shoulders were much broader than she had thought, his chest well muscled and firm, dark hair lightly covering his chest and leading in a trail that disappeared into his trousers. 

“If you want me to stop at any point, I will.” he reassured her, misinterpreting the expression on her face as one of anxiety and not growing arousal. 

Peter lay down next to her on his side leaning over to kiss her again, his mouth firm against hers. Sliding his hand underneath her nightgown, he touched the silky skin of her legs, traced the sensitive skin of her thighs, so entranced was she by the of feel of his lips, the heat and pressure his tongue against hers that she didn't notice when he gathered the soft lawn fabric of her nightgown, bringing it up around her waist. 

She gasped when he first brushed his fingers against the curls that lay where her thighs met, his fingers delving lower against her.

Lara Jean held up her hand against his chest getting his attention.

“What are you doing?” she asked and shifted slightly away from him.

Peter paused, his fingers still against her, “What do you mean?”

Her face was flaming, “it’s improper isn’t it?”

Peter shook his head fondly, and resumed his actions, “Nothing like this is improper between a husband and wife,” he said and nudged her thighs apart a fraction more.

“Does this not feel good?” he asked softly, “Do you not like me touching you?”

She tried to hide her face in his neck, and nodded, whispering, “yes.”

“Yes what, Lara Jean?” 

“It feels good.” 

“You don't need to hide from me,” he whispered against the shell of her ear, his lips brushing it in a fleeting kiss before he resumed his leisurely touching of her.

“I’m not hiding…” her voice broke when she felt Peter brush against a place so sensitive her hips jerked in surprise. 

“Ah, there,” Peter sighed, and he brushed against it again with the pad of his thumb, and she was unable to control her reaction to it.

“This is foreplay, did they not write of this in your penny dreadfuls?” He teased her gently. “It helps to make it easier for you, when we join together.”

“Oh.” she’s sure her whole entire face is red, in embarrassment or want she doesn't know.

He kissed her again, softly but not as deeply as he had before and it felt like soothing more than passionate. She felt Peter’s fingers brushing against her more, as he shifted his hand and slipped one of his long fingers inside her.

Her hips jerked as he continued to brush against that spot with his thumb where it feels like all the sensations are gathering, judiciously applying the most delightful pressure. She felt his finger slide more easily in her, as she grew wet from his ministrations. She could no longer kiss him, only gasp out against his lips, nearly panting. 

A second finger slid in alongside the first which was a bit of a stretch, but she felt his fingers crook inside her and she couldn’t stop herself from crying out with the pleasure of it, rolling her hips with the motion and nearly riding his hand.

“Lara Jean,” Peter said raggedly “Can I?”

“Yes, yes.” she acquiesced not even sure what she was agreeing to, but he slid his fingers out from inside her and shifted down to her waist, pushing her thighs farther apart and back. 

“Peter?” she asked quizzically, His face was level with her navel and she felt him dotting kisses all over her abdomen and above the ebony triangle of hair. He settled even more between her thighs, the breadth of his shoulders spreading her wider to him.

“Peter!” she cried with alarm, trying to sit up and cover herself, her body wholly exposed to him like this.

“You’re pretty here too, Lara Jean.” he said softly against the skin of her thigh before she felt the warm pressure of his mouth on her most intimate place, where his fingers were before. She collapsed back into the pillows, shocked beyond imagining.

Oh Lord how was this proper? She didn’t even know anything like this was possible, in all her imagining of lovemaking. His tongue was doing such wicked things to her, surely this was not something that married men and ladies did? But she didn’t want him to stop, it felt like she was tingling all over, the pleasure radiating out from where Peter was oh god, kissing her.

It caused such shocking sensations and she couldn’t control the jerking and movement of her hips which only seemed to spur Peter on in his gentle yet thorough explorations of her, his fingers finding their way back inside her, as he continued to use his mouth on her. He covered the most sensitive part of her, drawing it gently between his lips while he stroked his tongue over and over again making her whimper and shudder. This coupled with the movement of his fingers was enough to overwhelm her, pleasure radiating from his mouth in waves and peaks cresting higher and higher until she felt like she could stand it no longer. 

“Peter, Peter you must…” she gasped but it was lost in a cry as she shuddered and came against his mouth, her thighs twitching and clasping against him, about his shoulders and head. She fell back replete, and almost boneless from her release.

Lara Jean distantly felt him kiss her lower belly before he stood and began to unbutton the fall of his trousers, disrobing completely before her. 

“Oh dear,” she breathed out when she had beheld him before her, the first time she had ever truly seen a man in the nude. 

He huffed a laugh and helped her pull her nightdress up and over her head, laying for the first time naked with her husband. 

“This may hurt you, I’m sorry,” he kissed her cheeks and her forehead as he positioned himself between her legs. 

Lara Jean nodded and kissed his neck, “It’s alright. Just go slow?”

Peter kissed her as he reached between the two of them, guiding himself into her. She felt the blunt smooth pressure of his cock as he started to push in slowly, pain spiking sharply, making her cry out, the sound swallowed in their kiss. 

Her husband was so much larger than her, and even though she was copiously wet from his mouth and her release it stung sharply. She shut her eyes tight, her fingernails digging into Peter’s biceps as he filled her. But she did not tell him to stop, wanting all of it, all of him. She could not hold back a whimper as she felt his hips flush with hers, inside of her completely. The fullness was almost too much. 

“Are you alright?'' he asked raggedly, staying still for her. 

She tried to settle and shift away from the burning pressure between her legs, but there is no respite in movement and it served to only shift his body within hers.

“Lara Jean you need to stop, please stay still,” Peter pleaded, sweat forming on his brow.

“But it’s too much,” she said her eyes opening again, Peter already looking at her. 

“We can stop.”

“Give me a moment please, can you distract me?”

Peter leaned down and kissed her, his hand reaching to cup her breast caressing the rose colored peak with his thumb, brushing it back and forth over in the way that made her gasp before.

It was not long before the pain had faded and she felt achy instead, like the hurt after a bruise. She settled and experimentally pushed her hips against Peter.

He gasped sharply and murmured against her lips, “You’re ready?”

“Yes,” she sighed.

He reached for her hips and tilted them upwards, urging her legs about his waist, oh yes this was so much better, the size of him filling her at this angle feeling nothing but pleasurable. 

He tried a thrust, slow and shallow. 

“That feels lovely,”she sighed, and he moved again, thrusting a little longer and deeper. 

Her arms wound about his back embracing him as he moved within her, she could hear the harsh sound of his breaths in her ear, the soft sighs of her name and praise, echoing the sounds back to him in her own cries of pleasure. She started to move her hips in counterpart to his and that made Peter groan in her ear. He leaned over her on one forearm and reached down where they were joined, finding that spot from before that made her gasp and shudder but it's so much more intense now when he is thrusting inside her like this, making her cry out.

“Lara Jean I...” his eyes wide open and defenseless, all walls between them stripped away. 

She almost couldn't bear to look at him, the love she saw there almost too much as she squeezed her eyes shut and came sobbing out her release against his lips, and in her wake she felt him shudder and shake in her arms as he came too, her name a drawn out sound.

Peter laid on top of her, his head pillowed on her chest as they caught their breath. 

She could never keep her fingers from his curls, stroking them as she reoriented herself. She had no idea that it was like this, that such pleasure and ecstasy existed in the act of love. 

He brushed a kiss softly against the inside of her breast before he stood, walking over to her washstand. He poured water from the pitcher onto a cloth and came over to her.

“Let me see,'' he said softly, parting her legs gently. She blushed and resisted at first but Peter would not be deterred, so she covered her face with her hands instead, unable to look at him while he ministered to her needs. 

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. 

The cool compress felt wonderful against her and she dropped her hands from her heated face and shook her head, “No. It did at first, but then…”

“Then?” Peter prompted.

“It felt rather.” 

Peter grinned, and gathered her against him again, “I’ll take rather.” before leaning down to kiss her ever so sweetly again. 

She fell asleep like that her head pillowed on his chest and his arms around her. 

When she awoke Peter was still asleep, the morning light filtering in through the soft drapery that covered her windows

She smiled to herself sitting up, and used this opportunity to look her fill at her husband, his face relaxed and vulnerable in sleep, his lashes making dark crescents against his cheeks. She had never seen him with stubble like this either, prickly against her fingertips. His valet must shave him extremely close. She pulled the sheet back, and couldn’t resist touching his chest, the hair crinkly and crisp against her palm, blushing when she remembered how it felt against her breasts, already sensitive from his kisses. Her hand moved lower, tracing the ridges of his abdomen but startled when his hand covered hers. 

“Don’t let me stop you.” He opened his eyes and grinned, waking fully. He crossed his hands behind his head and leaned into the pillows. 

Oh, her husband was so vain at times, so assured of his handsomeness and he could never resist an opportunity to tease her. 

“Go on, you may look at your leisure.”

Lara Jean huffed, “I have enough.” and made to stand and dress. 

She shrieked when he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back onto the bed, rolling over ontop of her and silencing her protests with his mouth, he only pulled back when she was well kissed and pliant. 

“Good morning, my lady.” he smiled above her.

“My lord,” she replied, laying her hand on his hair roughened cheek in a caress. 

“Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” She murmured dreamily.

“Are you in pain at all?”

Lara Jean blushed considering “A little I think, but mostly I feel…”

“You feel?” he prompted.

“Wonderful.”

He laughed.

“Oh don’t be smug, Peter it’s not flattering.”

“I can make you feel wonderful again.” there was that mischievous look on his face again.

She giggled when she divined his meaning but surrendered herself to his kiss. 

They did not make it down to breakfast until much later. 

******

Her breakfast plate was heaped with food, as she was famished in the morning but oh if she could just get that look off of Peter’s face, as if he were the cat that swallowed the canary. He was reading his paper, smirking as he did so. One of the footmen brought in the correspondence, as there was so much many letters and well wishes to reply to, and calling cards to acknowledge. 

Peter’s brow creased and he lifted a letter from the stack, “It appears that this one is for you?”

“How can that be?” 

“It was addressed to your father’s home and they must have forwarded it to Adler Hall.”

She frowned and took the letter from Peter turning it over in her hands, noting the unfamiliar wax seal and how worn the envelope looked, as if it had been through all of Europe before reaching her. Lara Jean turned it back over and saw who it was from.

“Well, who is writing to you already, Lady Kavinsky?” Peter asked, taking a sip of his tea.

“It seems that Mr. John Ambrose-Mclaren received my letter.”


End file.
